


Get Back

by SegaBarrett



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: During Canon, Gen, Janine Loves Those Beatles Jams, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: Janine finds things to hold on to, even in the darkest of times.





	Get Back

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Handmaid's Tale or the Beatles either.
> 
> A/N: Beatles jams within! All of the quotes are referenced within. 
> 
> TW: A quick reference to Janine's past sexual trauma, as well as to John Lennon's death.

When Janine was nine years old, she knew what her favorite day in the year was. She loved Christmas and New Year’s, of course, and Easter too, but she counted down through the whole year to hear one little thing.

“You’re listening to WZLX and this is this year’s Beatles A to Z.”

They would start early in the morning, around 8, with “Across the Universe”, and wrap up in the evening with “Your Mother Should Know.”

Janine’s favorite parts, the ones that sent her into giddy giggles, were when the DJ messed up. He had kept playing the wrong sides of singles and had someone managed to play “A Taste of Honey” unintentionally three times. 

As Janine leaned in towards the speaker, propping herself up on her elbows, she came up with a glorious idea. 

She waited until the last chords of “Your Mother Should Know” played, singing “da da de dum de dum da da…” as she rushed upstairs and retrieved four envelopes and four sheets of paper. 

Janine knocked on the door to the master bedroom excitedly and when her parents poked their heads out, she explained, “I just need stamps – I’m going to write all the Beatles a letter.” She would write to Ringo first so he didn’t feel left out. She thought maybe sometimes he felt left out, and she knew what that was like. At school they called her “Janine the Bean” and had made a game of musical chairs in which the losing party had to sit next to her. “So I just need four stamps. Unless they all live together, like in Help! Do they all live together?”

Her parents exchanged looks and her father rose from his bed, stepping forward.

“Janine, honey, there’s something we need to tell you about John Lennon…”

***

That night, gunfire cut through Janine’s dreams, and she woke up with her chest tight, unable to breathe, struggling for air.

***

The baby book that Janine flipped through at the hospital says that Caleb means “bold”, and she liked that. It helped that it didn’t rhyme with anything, at least not that she could think of. That may have been the pain meds, though. 

When they placed him into her arms, she focused on not thinking about the basement. She didn’t want that to flow through her, into him. She wanted his world to be shiny and bright. 

“Hey,” Janine slurred to the closest nurse, “it’s 4:30 isn’t it? Can you turn on WXLZ?”

A moment later she heard, “This is WXLZ, Boston’s Only Classic Rock station, and you’re listening to the Beatle Break. Let’s start you off today with one from the early days. This is ‘She Loves You’.”

***

Janine rubbed her head and groaned as she sat up. What had happened? 

It took a few moments before it all came back to her - Ofmatthew, Loaves and Fishes, feeling something collide with her head. She couldn’t remember anything after that. 

It was dark and chilly. She placed a hand against the bed she was in - she must be back at the Commander’s place. Howard. 

It seemed to always be her that this stuff happened to. 

It would be easier to be mad, wouldn’t it? To be like June or Emily and fume about it, rant about it. She had been mad once. 

She looked around. There was no one here... One song came to mind, though “I’ll Cry Instead” was what they used to call a deep cut. 

“I got every reason on Earth to be mad... ‘cause I just lost the only girl I had... if I could get my way, I’d get myself locked up today but I can’t, so I’ll cry instead...”

It had been a long time since she had heard her own voice sing, since she had been singing Dusty Springfield to Charlotte. She wondered what other songs Charlotte might like one day. 

***

Janine held Charlotte’s hand tightly. She was little and curious and New York was a big city if she pulled away and went off running. 

Caleb, big and spindly and seventeen, stood behind her with his hands at his side, looking ahead silently. 

“It’s so much bigger in real life,” Janine breathed out, “I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe they kept it,” said a voice behind her, “I guess it was a warning. What happens when you think you’re bigger than Jesus.”

Janine turned to see a girl with long, curly dark brown hair pulled into a blue scrunchie. 

“At least it’s here,” Janine replied, “I always wanted to come down but... I was up in Boston.”

“I was in Yonkers,” the girl replied, “Well, then Jezebels.”

“Oh! Well, I was a Handmaid. I’m Janine. This is Charlotte, and Caleb.”

“I’m Julie,” the woman replied. “It really does seem vast, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine living here.”

“Which apartment did he live in?” Janine asked, craning up. 

“Apartment 72,” spoke up a voice. They turned to see a man dressed in a shirt, tie, and black pants, carrying a brief case. “I own an apartment just down the hall, number 79. Did I just hear you might want to live here?”

“I mean, we couldn’t afford if,” Julie said. “It’s got to be millions of dollars isn’t it? You must be loaded.”

The man chuckled darkly. 

“I’m actually looking to sell. If you pick up the taxes on the damn thing, I’ll let you have it for $500.”

“Don’t have it,” Janine admitted. 

The man shrugged. 

“$50.”

“Why are you so eager to sell?” Caleb spoke up. 

“I’ve been living in Canada. The Gilead dollar crashed, now I don’t know what the hell is gonna happen here, but I’m unloading it all and moving to Hawaii.”

“Hawaii?” Julie jerked her finger at the Dakota. “Really? You say that here?”

“Listen, I just need to unload it. It’s a drag on my credit. And I think a pair of ... ex-Handmaids such as yourselves -“

“I was a Jezebel,” Julie pointed out. 

“Could spruce up the place. Some Commander was living here and the whole thing smells like fungus.”

“Well, give up the deed then. Let’s see it.”

The man did, and Julie retrieved $50 from her pocket and handed it to him. 

“Look at this,” she said, then looked at Janine. “Well, are you coming?”

***

“So, kind of a fixer upper,” Janine said as they stepped inside, “like this chest of drawers - don’t touch that Charlotte, you’ll get a splinter.”

“We can toss that out tomorrow. Is it weird to be moving in together when we just met?”

“Well it’s better the last few roommates I had,” Janine said with a grin. “And I mean, look at this place! It’s huge. We could lose each other.”

“I don’t want to,” Julie said with a smile. “How about you kids pick out your rooms?”

They ran off towards the rooms, and the women looked at each other. 

“Look, a radio!” Janine exclaimed, reaching over to switch it on and fiddling with the tuner. 

“You’re listening to Q104.3, New York’s Classic rock station. It’s good to be back. And it’s time for the Beatle Block. We’re going to start off with ‘I’m Happy Just to Dance with You.’”

Julie smiled. 

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Dance?”

“Well... I guess!”

She placed her hands on Janine’s and began to sway. 

_“I don't wanna kiss or hold your hand_  
If it's funny try and understand  
There is really nothing else I'd rather do  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you  
I don't need to hug or hold you tight  
I just wanna dance with you all night  
In this world there's nothing I would rather do  
'Cause I'm happy just to dance with you…” 

****

“Who were you talking about earlier? Who lives here?” Charlotte asked later, peeking out the window. 

“John Lennon,” Janine spoke up. 

“Right here?”

“No... Down the hall.”

“Do you think we’ll ever see him?”

Janine hesitated and slowly nodded. 

“Why don’t we try writing him a letter?”


End file.
